


Off Month

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Depression, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, i hate that i related with this while writing it hhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:35:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4849637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank understands that if someone has depression, there will be times when they're blatantly miserable. Maybe they'll lock themselves away for a day or two, maybe a week. Maybe they go about their normal lives, but everything drags on longer and longer everyday until their mood boosts or the pills do their job again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off Month

**Author's Note:**

> idk where the fuck this came from but it's sad and comforting at the end wtf

Frank understands that if someone has depression, there will be times when they're blatantly miserable. Maybe they'll lock themselves away for a day or two, maybe a week. Maybe they go about their normal lives, but everything drags on longer and longer everyday until their mood boosts or the pills do their job again.

Frank understands really well. He's learned, secondhand experience because of his boyfriend. And, he'll admit, it's hard to deal with. He's learned the patience and precautions with just about any situation. He's learned that, sometimes, trying to make him laugh by sticking paintbrushes up his nose just doesn't end well. His boyfriend started to sob uncontrollably with no explanation himself for the outburst. He apologized profusely and excessively.

The most difficult thing with Gerard, Frank's introverted-artist boyfriend, is that he has off  _months_ \- not off  _weeks_. Gerard will shut anyone and everyone out for days on end, not leaving his room. Not leaving his bed or showering or anything. Every supposedly simple task turns into something of a giant chore that he just fucking shuts down in the face of.

Frank called Mikey in a panic the first time because Gerard wasn't picking up his cellphone and Frank freaked the fuck out because he thought none of his texts asking, "are you ok?" and, "what's going on where are you omg? :(" were being read. Mikey told him about Gerard's off months that happen occasionally, and the basics of how to deal with it.

Frank learned to ask, "are you going to be ok?" instead of "are you ok?" because he knew Gerard wasn't alright, at all.

Probably one of the absolute worst moments during one of these times was when Gerard asked Frank upfront, "Can you make me feel better? Can you fuck me?" and Frank said, "Ok."

Frank was thrusting slow and deep into Gerard, grunting. He sucked softly on Gerard's neck, and Gerard was abnormally quiet. He breathed deeply and sighed instead of moaning and shrieking, just not making lots of noise as usual. His hands were resting splayed on Frank's back, when usually he'd be clawing and leaving red marks. Frank was immediately aware something was wrong when he heard a whimper. Not like a sex-whimper either, it was a tears-streaming-down-his-face whimper. He looked up from Gerard's neck and said, "Why are you crying, Gee? D-did I hurt you?"

Gerard sniffed and told him, "No, no, I'm fine, just- fuck, pull out, Frankie. This isn't working," Gerard whined, more tears falling down his flushed face, "I don't feel any better."

Frank pulled out slowly, trying not to hurt Gerard and ended up cuddling his teary eyed boyfriend, excusing pointless apologies for not letting Frank finish and how embarrassed he was for " _crying_  in the middle of  _gentle_   _sex_ , for fucks sake," as Frank ran his hands comfortingly through Gerard's long black hair, frizzing and sticking up from the sweat.

Sex was a good idea in theory, but definitely not in practice.

Frank knows that sometimes, it's just better to let this run its course and check up later. It's difficult to not call or text Gerard repeatedly throughout the day, but he manages. And he's having to manage that right now.

He actually texted Mikey for a while, finding out that his parents were out and he was going to meet with some friends. Gerard was home, locking himself away in the basement and miserable with anything. Mikey had told Frank that every time Gerard came upstairs from his room, usually to loot a fresh bottle of alcohol, his parents would make comments like, "Ooh, the vampire left his cave," and shit like that. Donna and Donald are great parents, but sometimes parents don't entirely grasp the concept of a mental illness that's going to fuck with you for the rest of your life.

And they let Gerard get away with stealing their alcohol and him drinking excessively, and it's starting to concern Frank in a way it didn't before. It's kind of turning into Gee's escape route if anything is going wrong.   
\--

About the time when Mikey texted Frank that he had to go, Frank put his risky plan into action. He quietly went down the stairs, telling his mom that he was going out. He checked the time on his phone before he left, saying it was around 7:30 PM, and he was glad his mother didn't exactly question too much, even though she should be more restrictive about going out after dark in New fucking Jersey.

\--

The walk to the Way's house was managed with minor anxiousness, but there seemed to be nothing terribly shady going on. Frank always had that ambient kind of anxiety when he was out past dark, thinking and  _knowing_  something could possibly go wrong.

It was even worse when he was on the doorstep of the Way's and no one was answering the door. Frank figured this would happen, but it was worth a shot. It just made him feel like a fool just standing there and knocking repeatedly.

He knew he was even more fucked when he went to look for the hidden house key and found it missing from its usual place. He figures that's probably the key Mikey had taken so he could let himself back in the house, knowing Gee wouldn't answer if he knocked.

Frank had to come up with a Plan like, what, three? Fuckin' four?

He knew about the tiny basement window that led to Gerard's room, but he didn't want to scare the fuck out of him. Maybe he could crack the lock on the window that led to the laundry room and give Don the money so he could repair it later? Worth a shot.

\--

Frank sneaks around the back of the house, keeping himself low and in the dark. He fucking  _knows_  about the bible-thumping old woman next door who would have the whole town know that  _"Some thief was trying to break in to Mrs. Way's house!"_ Or probably _, "That boy is seeing someone? Oh, probably not as pretty as my granddaughter."_

Frank laughs, it would fucking  _ruin_  her to know that Gerard is gay and is, _'heaven forbid,'_ dating a boy, because she has been trying to get her granddaughter with Gerard for  _ages_. Frank thinks himself the luckiest fucker here.

Frank finally gets around the back, taking twice as long as he had to shift into the shadows every time he saw granny over there walk around her kitchen or something.

He fucks around with the lock on the laundry room window, finding it already unlocked, strange, but glad that his funds stand for stable another day. He opens the window, flinching when the hinges squeak. He opens it the rest of the way in one quick movement, glad when it doesn't make a noise.

Sliding in through the window was a whole other problem, with the old metal washer sitting right under the tiny window. A loud echoing bang rings through the room when his chucks collide with the metal lid, making Frank gasp and go absolutely silent, trying to hear for Gerard, if he even got out of bed to investigate. But he hears nothing.

Slipping the window closed behind him, Frank slides off the washing machine. The light from the moon made its way through the narrow window, letting Frank see some details of the room. He can tell there's baskets of laundry on the floor, and he can see,  _he'll be damned_ , Gerard's favourite black sweater. It's there with good reason, because when he crouched down, the stench of alcohol was worn in to the soft fabric, and it was puke-crusted in some places.

_Fuck_ , Gerard has been drinking himself stupid.  _Again_ , the poor guy.

Frank stood up, and he felt like shit. He felt like shit because Gerard has all these problems and he can't do anything to help it.

He walks towards the half open door, pushing it open quietly and heard Morrisey playing from behind Gerard's door, seeing a warm light from his lmao under the door.

Frank walked over to Gerard's door, opening it and seeing Gerard laying face down on his bed, hearing him sigh heavily.

"If it's a robber and you're here to kill me, I'm not gonna fight you to be honest." Gerard said, sounding sad and slurred, muffled into his pillow.

"Gerard." Frank said, relieved that Gerard was still okay, even if he wasn't the happiest or soberest sounding.

"...Frankie," Gerard said, lifting his face from the pillow, revealing his face, which looked like he hadn't in fact taken proper care of himself in days. His black hair hung in his face, greasy and limp.

"Come here, please." Gerard sniffed and sat up, adjusting his shirt over his tummy and holding his arms out for a hug. Frank had the passing thought that he looked so innocent, but fucking wrecked at the same time.

Frank walked over to Gerard and before he could sit down on the unmade bed, Gerard was launching himself towards Frank, wrapping his arms around Frank's torso and trapping him in a big hug.

"I missed you." He said, snuggling his face into Frank's pudgy stomach. 

"Me too. So much."  Frank says, stroking Gerard's hair.

Gerard pulls Frank forward, trying to get him to sit down. Frank does with difficulty, because Gerard wont let go of him. He just tightened his grip around his waist. Frank tried to get him to move, huffing a laugh when Gerard whined and shoved his face further into his stomach. Sitting was short lasted, as Gerard pushed Frank down and just laid down on him, gripping his shirt like Frank was going to leave. He sniffed his shirt, taking all of Frank in, everything he missed for weeks. 

"I love you," Gerard muttered, sounding more and more slurred the more Frank heard him speak. 

Frank wrapped his arms around Gerard properly, holding him close, "I love you too, Gee. I'm here for you." 

"Thank you."

\--

The further the night progressed, Frank figured Gerard wasn't going to let him go any time soon, so he called his mom and told her he'd be staying the night. She sounded like she was implying something when she said, " _Oh I see_ , have fun." and Frank shook his head, as much as he'd like it to be that way, it wasn't right to Gerard, plus they'd learned their lesson. 

He got Gerard in the shower, but not without having to go in with him. He brushed Gee's hair out of its long tangles and let him wear his  _The Banner_  sweater, made sure he was clean and vomit-crust free. He smelt pretty, like cinnamon, instead of alcohol and dirty bed sheets. After they got clean, Frank brought him upstairs and got him some food. They ate Mikey's poptarts and little bits of Don's treat stash, but Frank doesn't think he'd really mind under the circumstances. They pigged out on the couch and sat in their underwear watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and Frank  gave Gerard little squeaky kisses all over his face while they snuggled up to each other. 

They woke up smushed together on the couch to Donna cooking breakfast, the smell of pancakes making everyones mouth water. Gerard's appetite was back, he ate nearly _every_  fucking pancake, having to give the last one up to Mikey. His little smiles, although short lived usually, made everyone feel a little less paranoid. 

In a weeks time Gerard seemed to bounce back with his mood, smiling and giggling like nothing was wrong, just to know that its going to slip again, but he pushes that to the back burner of his mind and enjoyed shit while he could, because if he can, he'll fucking take it. 


End file.
